Paul and Art knew half the
score:
It’s also at the grocery store.
Folks come here to buy their
bread,
while others come to sell,
instead.
I’ve done both, but do you
know,
I also come to watch the show!
Lovers stroll while choosing
meats.
Young children beg their folks
for treats.
Teens admire their first heart
throbs,
while working at their first
real jobs.
Babies caterwaul and scream,
while frazzled moms pick out
ice cream.
After all the selling’s done
and when the patrons all are
gone,
grocery stores will settle
down.
But still they work to feed the
town:
Shelves to stock and floors to
sweep,
a grocery store gets little
sleep.
Copyright ©2019, Paul H. Harder II
This poem is licensed under a Creative Commons
BY-NC-ND 4.0 License.
2 comments:
Thumbs up. Reminds me of years on the other side of the shopping cart.
Well done!
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